


Rainy Night

by coffeebucko



Category: The Book of Mormon - Ambiguous Fandom, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, but like yea, ft. a cat, i mean not actual angst, just two buds hanging out in the rain ya feel me, overuse of italics smh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeebucko/pseuds/coffeebucko
Summary: “There was a cat,” Kevin huffs, barely any louder than the rain.“And that’s why you went out, in the pouring rain, without a jacket or umbrella, in the middle of the night?” Connor replies with a raised eyebrow. “For a cat?”
Relationships: Elder "Connor" McKinley/Kevin Price
Comments: 7
Kudos: 37





	Rainy Night

**Author's Note:**

> i didn’t originally plan to post this and i’m kinda scared to do so but i’ve never said no to exposing myself to the entire internet

It rarely ever rains in Uganda — not that Heavenly Father has  _ anything  _ to do with this, despite what the locals might think — but, today, it seems as though the clouds won’t stop crying their cold tears, flooding the roads and creating puddles here and there all around the village. No one really complains, though; buckets are placed outside of homes to gather fresh rain water and children run around, mindless of the mud that’s up to their knees. It’s endearing to watch, or so Connor thinks. These people deserve what little happiness they can get, be it from the weather or the new, pimped version of the book Elder Cunningham has been shoving down their throats for weeks now. 

There’s no one left outside once the sun goes down, and it gives the village a more somber atmosphere than it usually wears. Darkness stretches to the edge of the land, the raindrops knocking at the door and windows and roof in an endless loop that would make him go crazy was it not for the comforting sound of the others arguing about what movie to watch on their old television. That’s what the mission president couldn’t see, couldn’t understand: they might not be perfect mormons, but they’re a family, all of them, and this, Elder Thomas hitting Elder Michaels across the face with a pillow and Elder Cunningham showing popcorn tricks to Elder Church, this is what the Lord wants, surely. The purest kind of happiness, even in the darkest of times. Why would it matter the way they achieve it when it hurts no one? 

Connor frowns, however, when he notices that there is one person missing from the mess in the living room. It’s past curfew and yet Elder Price is nowhere to be seen. Worry builds up in his stomach until it’s stuck in his throat and he breaks yet another rule as he sneaks out of the house, armed with an umbrella and a coat that’s too large for him. 

He finds him a few minutes later, just a couple of blocks — if the unorganized arrangement of nearly crumbling huts can be called blocks — away from their home. He scolds himself for being so concerned. It’s not as though the boy was in any danger, right? The General is not a threat any longer. The only things that  _ could _ hurt him are snakes. And spiders. And felines. And—

“Elder Price! You’re going to catch your death!” he nags, almost screeching but priding himself in the way he doesn’t  _ actually _ screech.

Kevin looks back from where he’s crouching and  _ dear Lord _ , how can he look so impossibly sublime and heart wrenchingly sad at the same time? Hair stuck to his forehead, white shirt made see-through by the heavy rain, the bottom of his slick black pants covered in dirt and mud, he finds Connor’s gaze as though it’s the only light in the shadows, and it might as well be, both figuratively and metaphorically. 

Kevin’s eyes don’t shine as much as they did when he first got here, but he smiles nonetheless. It just… isn’t sincere, not anymore. 

It’s full of everything he doesn’t say, but that Connor knows. It’s full of the fear of being alone, of being caught, of being hurt. It's full of guilt for failing his family, failing his mission, failing God himself, failing the boys that are huddled together and watching their movie in the house. It’s full of anger, deep, seething rage, and it’s directed at the same people he’s let down, it’s directed at  _ Connor _ , because Connor let him down, too. He should have been there, he shouldn’t have disregarded his panic, he shouldn’t have told him to turn it off, because, now, Kevin is repressing everything and, slowly but surely, like a light bulb, dying out. 

“There was a cat,” Kevin huffs, barely any louder than the rain.

“And that’s why you went out, in the pouring rain, without a jacket or umbrella, in the middle of the night?” Connor replies with a raised eyebrow. “For a cat?”

The other boy’s eyes go out of focus, like he’s not even seeing him anymore, and he lets out a shuddering breath before smiling again.

“It deserves better than to be left alone with itself,” he says, voice far away, and Connor’s heart breaks just a little more. 

He takes a few steps forward so that the umbrella is over Kevin’s head as well, shielding him from the foul weather, and he crouches down next to him, one hand propped on the other’s shoulder. 

“We have leftovers. We can leave some of it outside for your cat, what do you say?” When Kevin turns back to him with a questioning frown, he smiles as well. “I'm sure the others will be glad to have a pet. and…” He clears his throat. “It won’t be alone anymore.”

How does one clearly convey feelings without using a cat as a metaphor? He wants to apologise straight ahead, to cup Kevin’s pinkish cheeks and make him meet his eye and tell him he won’t  _ ever _ let him down again, that he can trust him, that he was wrong and he’s so,  _ so _ sorry, but it’s not something he can do, not here and now, not when they’re both catching a cold and too closed to the idea to even express themselves without projecting their feelings on a random stray animal he’s yet to see. 

It seems to work well enough, however, when Elder Price’s lips curl ever so slightly in the smallest yet most genuine smile he’s shown in weeks, and he reaches over his shoulder to wrap his fingers around Connor’s hand and squeeze it lightly, squeezing his heart as well in the process.

“Thank you. I would like that,” he murmurs, and he sounds so small and vulnerable that Connor realises that he would do anything for him, he would curse God and condemn himself to an eternity in hell for the boy, to assure his happiness, to be trusted by him again. 

If Connor spends too much time drying Kevin’s hair with a towel, if he sits much too close to him on the couch and if he subtly pecks his forehead when he falls asleep with his head on Connor’s shoulder, well, it’s only  _ his _ business. And if Arnold spots them from the corner of his eye and smiles, no one notices. 

But there’s a softness painted on Kevin’s face and Connor is determined to keep it alive.

**Author's Note:**

> english isn’t my first language so there’s probably a couple mistakes in this bad boy, sorrey!!


End file.
